Why do I write?

I posed this question to myself after reading a post from Jeff Goins, Writer .

I’d been stalled on the third revision of my novel, A Mouth Full of Teeth, for months; completely done in by my own self-doubt and the insurmountable challenge of making my story something everyone would want to read.

I was dead in the water.
And starting to sink.

So then I asked myself that very simple, very poignant question: Why do I write?

I write because I want to. No, because I need to. It makes me feel better. It’s fun. It takes me to a special, spiritual place I crave to be. It’s exciting. I have stories inside me, clawing to get out. I write because I’m compelled to. I write because I am.

If I were to look into a crystal ball and see into my future that I would never sell a single story, no one but my mom and my friends would ever read my work and even they would think my writing sucked, would I still continue to write anyway?

Hell yes I would.

Because I can’t stop.